


Party Poison Is Not Smitten, Okay, And He Will Punch You Out

by Go0se



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Accidental Dating, Alternate Universe - Killjoys, FILDI, M/M, Not Beta Read, Other: See Story Notes, Their Love Is So, in which popular opinion is wrong, not quite a not!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-09 13:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/774970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Go0se/pseuds/Go0se
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So what if this Kobra Kid sunshine knows what he's doing in firefights and in bed (or, well, uncovered mattress), moved into Poison's life a couple of months ago and seems disinclined to leave. So fucking what.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Party Poison Is Not Smitten, Okay, And He Will Punch You Out

**Author's Note:**

> This pairing is good and we should have more of it. Here is a meagre offering!  
> It is my personal headcanon in this little pocket 'verse I have going that Party Poison and Kobra Kid a) exist separately from any MCR fellows we may be familiar with, and b) are not actually related. Do with that what you will!  
> Sidenote: I know that there's a preference for portmanteau's when making shipping names, but, consider 'Venom' for Poison/Kobra. I think it's promising.
> 
> \------------~~~~~~~--------------

 

The bottom line here is Party Poison isn't attached to him. And would laugh in your face if you suggested it.  
  
The "him" in this case is a tall skinnyasfuck sunshine by the moniker of Kobra Kid, who has been hanging around Poison for a while now. He'd popped up out of the dunes one day during a firefight Poison had been having with some whitefaces, helped down half of them, and then basically followed Poison home.

Out in the Zones, things around names are a bit more relaxed; labels on every can, woman and child was some Bat City bullshit. But Poison wonders what Kobra is to him--- just for practical reasons, you understand. Like, are they fuckbuddy's, battle backups for each other, their own mini-crew? These things could change or even save a 'Joys life.  
(Doctor D, when Poison had thrown that question his way, had answered with another question as he often did: _how did Poison even know Kobra was on his side?_   Cause he ain't dead yet, that's how, and there's been no extra Dracs on his tail than usual. Doctor Death-Defying could be useful beyond belief, but he could be brick-brained some ways too.)  
To save time, Poison calls Kobra Kid his ally in his head, as that seems the most accurate simple description. They hadn't actually agreed on terms of allyship (which was always a mutual give-take thing) other than not-shooting-each-other, but, for reasons totally unrelated to any kind of _feelings,_ Poison thinks that's a good sign. Everyone knows you can't trust the ones who swore up and down they would never hand you in or rat you out. They'd inevitably bite you in the ass soon as you turned around. 

Besides, even without talking about what other Runners would undoubtably think of as the most important things, he and the Kid get along good. Kobra has a easy laugh and a gift for meaningless trash-talk that makes for easy time-passing. When, that is, they aren't using their mouths for something a couple shades more interesting.

And that's another thing, that in Poison's opinion takes a kind of alliance all it's own. Kobra is a good Runner: he can shoot a blaster straight and break bones with a stiff swing, fights like a trapped rat, knows people who can get stuff for cheaper than you would find it anywhere else-- some of who are kind of shady, frankly, but Poison can respect that. Kobra also happens to enjoy fucking Poison like there are H-bombs above them seconds from exploding.  
(For real, Poison had to start wearing his jacket while they hooked up to stop the scratches. Not that he'd _minded,_ strictly speaking, but broken skin could lead to infection even if it is just from badly managed nails and nobody had time for that.)  
Yeah, they hooked up a lot. Frankly it's pretty great, but there is a thing about the Zones: there's always someone else. To find, to fight, to make your ally, to trade stuff for, to hook up with. Staying close to any people in particular when you're so easily replaceable is not only stupid but _new._ And it wasn't like he and Kobra had made any promises to each other, because that would be getting attached, which Poison  _isn't._ __  
  
It goes without saying that Poison can get with any willing one he the fuck wants. Women, men, non-gens, metal, anyone. The fact that he hasn't for a while with anyone other than Kobra does not actually mean shit. The red-jacket Joy knows what-all he's doing, that's all, and Poison appreciates it. And it's not like he would give a rit-rat's ass if Kobra showed up with a crash queen on both arms one day, anyway.  
(Poison would spit in anybody's eye if they said the word “mono” to him.)  
  
  
So maybe they've been a mini-crew or whatever for a good while now. Maybe Poison would kill any sandrustlers who tried to mess with Kobra, and has done, and vice versa.  
  
So maybe on the days when Poison gets back to the (remarkably well-hidden) bunker they use as a base before Kobra does he only keeps one ear to the buzz and music of the little transistor radio he cobbled together. And when, however much later, the hinges of the heavy-ass metal door of the bunker scream open and Kobra's dusty gold boots come clomping down the narrow stairs, something in Poison's chest loosens a little. Maybe Kobra's smile when he spots Poison makes the thing in Poison's chest loosen a little bit more.  
And perhaps, a little, on the days when it's been a hard battle for their lives across miles of broken glass and both of them are tired beyond reckoning, they stumble back to their base together. Kobra flings off his helmet without looking where it'll land and slumps himself across the mattress that someone had dragged down there time unknown ago, and Poison drapes over him and presses his nose into the particular soft spot on Kobra's neck. Just carefully. And his hands might slide up under Kobra's sweat-sticking jacket and thin shirt, pressing flat against the strong kickdrum of Kobra's heart. And neither of them roll their hips or otherwise get ready to fuck, they just fucking lay there, close. Maybe sometimes it's Poison with his head pillowed on the mattress and Kobra's steady breaths sounding just under his ear, Kobra's fingers tucked across the top of Poison's jeans. Just the two of them unmoving.

So what if any of that happens. They're just being bodies for each other, getting a bite of warmth in the godawful stinking heat, as any Killjoy worth their jacket is entitled to. No one can prove anything otherwise. Sure, Poison enjoys himself. But it's not like he's expecting Kobra to stay for the longer haul-- or _hoping_ (what a stupid word) so, hell forbid _._  
  
Party Poison would personally break your front teeth, your nose, and at least one of your fingers if you even thought of trying to _mention_ “love” to him.  
Not that he's thinking of it himself or anything.  
He isn't.  
  
But _if you_ _did._  
  
\--


End file.
